Mollie sat in the back of the estate agent’s all-wheel and carefully avoided looking at the driver, who seemed to her to have entirely too many teeth.
Once they branched off the main road and were bowling down a country lane, she relaxed somewhat.
They soon came to the first whitewashed cottages and Mollie began to notice odd little signs on the lampposts. They were white, and round, and each depicted a black-clad figure on a broomstick.
“What are those signs?”
The agent smiled, and a cloud blocked the sun. “Why, my dear, it’s a neighbourhood witch area.”